


Lingering Effects of Miscommunication

by kowaiyoukai



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Awkward Sexual Situations, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Confessions, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Abuse, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con References, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-30
Updated: 2005-11-30
Packaged: 2017-10-30 14:38:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/332841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kowaiyoukai/pseuds/kowaiyoukai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is for the wizard_trauma Ficathon session 2. My first fic for the community, so hopefully it’s pleasing to all, and relevant to the idea of the community, and all whatnot and such. I cried while writing the ending. I don’t think I’ve ever cried while writing something before. It was just a few tears, but still. Of course, it <i>was</i> five-thirty in the morning when I finished, so that may be an excuse. Possibly. ^_^* Beta'd by gher's muse. *much love and gratitude*</p>
<p>Challenge #40: Character A is a victim of sexual abuse.<br/>Character declaration: Draco</p>
    </blockquote>





	Lingering Effects of Miscommunication

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the wizard_trauma Ficathon session 2. My first fic for the community, so hopefully it’s pleasing to all, and relevant to the idea of the community, and all whatnot and such. I cried while writing the ending. I don’t think I’ve ever cried while writing something before. It was just a few tears, but still. Of course, it _was_ five-thirty in the morning when I finished, so that may be an excuse. Possibly. ^_^* Beta'd by gher's muse. *much love and gratitude*
> 
> Challenge #40: Character A is a victim of sexual abuse.  
> Character declaration: Draco

Draco gasped as Harry’s tongue entered his mouth. He slid his hands around Harry’s neck and opened his mouth further, letting the kiss deepen. Draco moved closer to Harry and felt Harry’s hands rest on his shoulders. Slowly, his hands moved down Draco’s arms and rested on his hips. Draco relaxed and titled his head for a better angle. He leaned into the kiss and gripped Harry’s neck.

Then Draco felt Harry’s fingertips move inside the waistband of his trousers and he froze. Harry must not have noticed, since he continued by curling his fingertips around the waistband. Draco’s eyes opened and he pulled away abruptly. Harry’s head lurched forward, both sets of hands dropped away, and Draco stared at him until he opened his eyes and stared back.

Draco swallowed and tried to say something. He didn’t know what he could say, what words would make this better.

“Harry, I . . .” Draco trailed off and looked away, eyes focused on the floor.

“What?” Harry asked. His voice was so quiet that a loud breath would have made it impossible to hear him. “What’s wrong?”

_Nothing’s wrong_ , Draco wanted to say. _Everything’s fine. I’m just nervous, that’s all. I’ve never done anything like this before._

Of course that would be a lie, but Harry didn’t know that.

Harry didn’t _need_ to know that.

“Is it me?” Harry’s voice was barely there, but it seemed to scream right in Draco’s face. 

The blonde flinched and shook his head. “No, Harry.” He swallowed. “God, no.”

“Then what is it, Draco?” Harry looked him directly in his eyes, and Draco felt his throat go dry. “This isn’t the first time this has happened, you know.” His voice teetered between frustrated and anxious.

“I know that, Harry. Of course I know that, it’s just . . .” Draco held Harry’s gaze for as long as he could before glancing away. “I don’t know,” he said, speaking softly.

Harry nodded once, curtly. “Right then. Okay.” He nodded again and backed up a step. “I guess I’ll be going then.”

“Harry . . .” Draco stepped forward, intending to somehow make things right between them.

Harry held up a hand and backed up another step. “No, Draco. Just . . . no. Not right now, okay? I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” With that Harry turned around and walked away, leaving Draco standing alone in the deserted corridor.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The ceiling of his four-poster bed was not particularly interesting. It had no decorations or adornments; it was just a dull wooden plank that was held up by four dull wooden poles, around which a deep green curtain hung. Even though there was nothing to see, Draco found himself staring up at it long into the night.

This was very unusual for him. Draco’s mattress was quite comfortable; it was made of some sort of downy material. Normally he would have been asleep within minutes of lying down.

Of course, normally he hadn’t just had a row with Harry.

Draco closed his eyes, finally breaking eye contact with the shadows on the ceiling. He couldn’t believe it. He had pushed Harry away. _Again._ Harry had every right to be mad at him.

Draco swallowed. He wanted to be with Harry. He really, _really_ did. It was just that every time Harry tried to go farther than only kissing, Draco freaked out. It was completely his own fault, he knew that. He liked to pretend that he didn’t know what was wrong with him. He had told Harry he didn’t know what the problem was.

But of course he _did_ know, and that was the whole point, wasn’t it?

It had been years ago. _Years._ There was really no excuse for the way he was behaving. Of course Harry would be angry with him; he was angry at himself. He was acting like a child, whining about things that he wished never happened to him. So what if he wished it had never happened? It had. Now he had to deal with it.

It was right there, every time Draco closed his eyes. Heavy breathing from somewhere above him, hands holding him down, sweaty palms pressing onto his skin. Sometimes he imagined he could still feel the fingers, which was rubbish, but the small pressure of those fingertips had caused him to wash his skin raw on several occasions. Those were the times when he couldn’t ignore what had happened; when he scrubbed and scrubbed, desperate to stop feeling ghost-like hands running over his body, only to find that even when he was red and almost bleeding his skin still wouldn’t come clean.

Draco shook his head abruptly. There was no use thinking like that now. Not now, when he had to figure out a way to get Harry to forgive him.

An idea began to form in his mind. It took shape slowly, like an ice cube crystallizing. Finally, when it was done, his shoulders relaxed and he closed his eyes. He fell asleep sometime later, after remembering to not think about anything at all.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Harry,” Draco hissed. Harry walked right past him without even a glance. Draco watched as he sat down next to Weasley and Granger. Their seats were too far away from each other; unless Harry looked back, Draco wouldn’t be able to talk to him. Draco _needed_ to talk to him. It was the only way he could follow through with his plan.

Before he could even open his mouth to say something, Professor McGonagall walked in. Draco swallowed and sighed. He would have to wait until class was over.

The class seemed to go by even slower than normal, which came as a shock to Draco. He began tapping his fingers on his desk, only stopping when McGonagall looked pointedly at him. Draco looked down at the notes he had been taking and saw that his normally neat handwriting was absolutely illegible. He rolled his eyes and began tapping his foot.

“Mr. Malfoy?” Professor McGonagall stood in front of his desk, arms crossed. “Is there a problem?”

Draco smiled what he hoped was a charming smile. “No, professor. No problem here.”

She nodded once. “Then please attempt to keep yourself still in my classroom.”

Draco continued smiling, realizing immediately that he would not be getting into trouble. “Of course, professor.”

Professor McGonagall continued the lesson. Draco forced himself to remain motionless. There was no way he would be able to concentrate on the lesson, given the current situation. Instead, he thought about just how he would approach Harry. Draco knew Harry was an emotional wreck who believed no one loved him. Since this was the case, Draco also knew the only way to really reach Harry would be to offer up a profound, heartfelt, meaningful, and sincere explanation for his behavior. He had spent a lot of time thinking up one, and it forced him into a rather uncomfortable position with Harry, but it was sure to keep Harry satisfied for the time being. It was also far, _far_ better than telling Harry the truth. Which was out of the question.

Eight minutes before class finished, Draco’s books, parchment, and quill were safely stored away into his bag. Three minutes before class was finished, Draco’s seat was pushed out and his bag was in his hand. As soon as McGonagall dismissed them, Draco got up and left the classroom. He stood outside the door and waited.

“Draco?” Pansy asked as she left the classroom. Blaise followed her, followed closely by Vincent and Greg. All of them were looking at him with varying stages of concern or amusement on their faces.

Draco scowled and made a shooing motion at her. “Go away, the lot of you. I have something very important to do.”

Pansy looked shocked. “Draco!”

Blaise snorted. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

Draco cast an anxious glance at the other students leaving the room. He caught sight of Harry passing through the door with his two obnoxious sidekicks.

“Draco, what’s wrong?” Pansy moved closer to him and latched onto his arm. “Are you feeling ill?”

Well, he certainly _was_ feeling ill, now that Harry had left without even one small peek in his direction and left Draco all alone with Pansy clinging to him. The feeling of her hands wrapped around his arm made him push her away roughly.

Pansy gasped and glared at him, a mixture of hurt and anger showing through her eyes. “What was _that_ for? I was only trying to help.”

“And a fine job you’ve done of it, too,” Draco snapped, scowling.

Blaise rolled his eyes and took Pansy’s arm. “Come on. Let’s just go. He’s in a mood again.”

Draco sneered at him. “Good. Get going, then.”

Blaise walked away. Pansy followed after a few seconds, scampering along behind him. Draco nodded in the direction of his departing friends and looked at Vincent and Greg. “You two go along with them. I’ve got something I have to do. Alone.” The two hulking boys shrugged and walked away as well, leaving Draco alone in the corridor.

Draco grit his teeth and started walking in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. He would not be deterred. He knew Harry had a free period next, just like he did, since neither of them were taking Muggle Studies this year. He would talk to Harry before lunch. Just let the bastard _try_ to ignore him.

Draco strode away from the Transfigurations classroom, intent on speaking with Harry as soon as possible. It took him just under ten minutes to get to the portrait of the Fat Lady, and then he was stuck. They hadn’t made their relationship public knowledge yet, so it would seem more than a little strange if he just stood outside waiting for someone to let him in. Come to think of it, he had no idea what the password was, either. He took a moment to contemplate his options, then shrugged and banged loudly on the portrait.

“Hey!” the Fat Lady exclaimed. Draco ignored her.

“Potter!” Draco shouted. He inhaled deeply and pounded on the portrait a few more times. “Potter! Come out here, damn you!”

He drew his fist back once more, but then the portrait was moving and Harry stood there, flushed and glaring at him. Draco let his fist fall to his side.

“Well. That worked,” he muttered, feeling oddly successful despite the scowling boy in front of him.

“What do you think you’re _doing_?” Harry hissed, leaning closer to Draco. “There are other people in the common room, you know.”

“We need to talk,” Draco responded. He spoke quietly, following Harry’s lead. No need to make the boy more nervous than he already was.

“Well, I can’t talk right now. I’m busy.” Harry turned around but Draco grabbed his arm and pulled him closer.

“That’s bullshit; you’re doing nothing but sulking.” Draco sighed and opened his mouth to say something else, but of course Weasley had to show up behind Harry. Draco watched him scowl and rolled his eyes.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” Weasley spit out his name like a curse, and Draco smirked.

“Just talking, Weasley. No harm in that,” Draco said, smirking.

Weasley glowered. “Get out of here, Malfoy. No one wants you here.”

Draco looked back at Harry, who was steadily staring at his shoes. “Is that true, Potter? Does no one want me here?” His voice was toneless, expressionless. He knew he couldn’t give anything away, especially since there was probably a room full of Gryffindors spying on their conversation. But still, he had to know. He had to know.

Harry remained silent, inspecting the ground near his feet.

Weasley snorted and sneered. “Of course no one wants you, Malfoy. You’re just an obnoxious prat. Go run along to your daddy, I’m sure you’ll want to tell him _all_ about this.”

Draco dropped Harry’s arm. “I can see there’s no use trying to have a civilized conversation with you people.” He sneered at Weasley and checked the impulse to look at Harry. Instead, he turned around, stalking away before another word could be spoken.

He was four corridors away before he finally leaned against the nearest wall. Harry hadn’t even looked at him. Draco slid down the wall until he was sitting cross-legged on the floor. He had gone all the way to the Gryffindor bloody common room to talk to Harry, but Harry hadn’t even had the decency to talk to him.

Well, fuck him, then. Just fuck him. Draco didn’t need someone who was going to take him for granted at every opportunity. If Harry couldn’t be bothered to listen when Draco tried to talk to him, then Draco simply couldn’t be bothered to try to talk to him anymore. That was it. His plan was all for naught, then. Ah, well. To hell with Harry. To hell with the stupid bloody plan.

“Draco?”

Draco’s head snapped up. Harry was standing in front of him, gasping for breath. Suddenly Draco’s mind raced. Harry had come after him. That had to mean something. It had to.

Harry kneeled down in front of him and stared at him for a second. Then, his eyes widened. “Draco, are you… you aren’t… crying?”

Draco’s hands flew up to rub at his eyes, which had become slightly damp while he wasn’t paying attention. “What? No, no, of course not, you daft git.” He continued rubbing his eyes furiously, shaking his head once or twice for good measure.

“Oh,” Harry said, and then he was silent. Draco risked a glance at him. Harry was looking at him carefully, biting his lower lip. He always did that when he was thinking about something, and it drove Draco crazy. He resisted the urge to kiss those lips and waited for Harry to speak.

“I think that…” Harry cleared his throat and tried again. “Maybe we should talk.”

Draco nodded. “Yes, yes, talking, we should do that.”

“Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m _fine_ , Harry. Now get on with the talking.”

Harry sighed. “I guess I’m just confused, Draco. I don’t understand why we haven’t done anything yet.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Harry,” Draco interrupted, waving a hand in the air. “We’ve kissed.”

“Well, yeah, but I mean other stuff.” Harry took a deep breath. “We’ve been together for a few months now, and… I mean, we’re both teenage boys. We’re _supposed_ to be making out all the time. But…” Harry bit his lower lip again. He looked at Draco, searching the blonde’s face. “Don’t you want to?” he whispered.

“Harry…”

“Er, it’s okay if you don’t, you know. We don’t have to do anything. But _I_ want to, so I thought that _you’d_ want to, but of course you _don’t_ want to otherwise we’d be doing it already, wouldn’t we?” Harry’s teeth continued working on his lower lip, until finally he looked away from Draco and down at the ground. “It’s okay if you don’t though,” he said, voice quiet.

Draco swallowed and felt his shoulders tremble. He stiffened them and grit his teeth. He had to stay in control here. Everything would get all mucked up if he lost it now.

“Harry, look at me.” Draco waited until Harry looked up. “I want to. Okay? I really want to.”

“But why—”

“Can you just listen to me right now?” Draco asked. Harry nodded and Draco took a soothing breath. His plan consisted of one phrase, and now was the time to say it. “It’s just that this means a lot to me, and I don’t want to rush into things.” He waited for Harry’s response, only somewhat surprised when Harry began to splutter.

“Rush into things?” Harry repeated. “But we’ve been dating for over seven months already! How is making out ‘rushing into things’?”

“It just is, okay?!” Draco backed away from Harry a bit, pressing himself against the wall. “It just is!”

“Draco, I don’t think—”

“That’s just the problem! You _don’t_ think, Harry! You _never_ think!”

Harry nodded and swallowed. “Okay. Fine. I get it.” He pushed himself to his feet and looked down at Draco. “You’re not interested in me.”

Draco blinked. “What?”

“You could have just said so. You didn’t have to lead me around all this time, thinking you wanted this when you obviously don’t.”

“No, wait, what?”

“Forget it,” Harry said, turning around.

Draco suddenly realized this was it. This was his last chance. Draco’s heart seemed to constrict, a tight pain formed in his chest, and his throat closed up. He found he couldn’t breathe very properly, and then he tasted something salty and flicked his tongue across his lips. Odd that it came away wet.

Why was he so nervous? Sure, he hadn’t ever told anyone, and sure, he was embarrassed and ashamed about it. But Harry had his share of problems that Draco couldn’t even begin to understand. Maybe he would understand. Maybe he wouldn’t act strangely from then on, watching everything he said and did.

That was what he was afraid of. He was afraid of people treating him differently because of something he had no control over. There was more to it than that, of course. He was afraid of saying what had happened out loud, of validating it in a way that he couldn’t ever take back. He was afraid of a reaction, any reaction, good or bad or some where in between. He was afraid of trying to get over his fear, of learning how to touch and be touched without thinking about anything other than that one moment, without thinking about anything that had happened years ago. He was afraid of never getting over his fear, of being left alone for his entire life, never loving or being loved by anyone.

Most of all, he was afraid of losing Harry. That was the only thing that mattered to him right then. Harry really thought that Draco wasn’t interested in him. Harry was walking away, ready to break up with Draco because of something _stupid_ , of something that shouldn’t even matter anymore. But it did, and Harry didn’t even know it because Draco never got up the courage to tell him, and now because Draco was a coward Harry was leaving him.

Well, fuck that.

Draco stood up and called out. “Wait!”

Harry paused and looked back. Draco’s shoulders sagged with relief.

“What is it?” Harry’s tone was clipped, but the fact that he had stopped and turned back meant everything to Draco.

Draco walked over to him, slowly, until he stood right beside him. Then he reached for Harry’s hand. Harry’s hand curled around his, and Draco’s mouth curved upwards only the tiniest bit.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“I have something to tell you.”

Harry only looked blankly at him. “Yeah?”

Draco swallowed. “Do you think we could maybe…”

“What?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know,” Draco said. He ran his free hand through his hair. “Sit down or something?”

Harry swallowed. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Draco walked back to the spot he had been sitting in, tugging Harry along behind him. He dropped Harry’s hand when he sat down, but picked it up again as soon as Harry sat down next to him. Their fingers intertwined, and Draco spent a few moments staring at their hands. He felt calm and nervous all at once. It was going to happen, and it was going to happen now. All he had to do was say it.

He looked over at Harry to find Harry already looking at him. The brunette frowned and reached over, running his thumb gently under Draco’s right eye. Draco swallowed and inhaled. He waited until his lungs felt like they would burst before exhaling. He looked over at Harry again. Their eyes met, but Draco could tell that Harry would not rush him. That made everything so much easier. Draco closed his eyes and licked his lips. He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it once more.

“It’s not really that big a deal,” he said. He leaned his head back against the wall, keeping his eyes firmly shut. “I don’t know why I’m making it out to be.”

Draco heard Harry breathe in, like he was going to speak. “No,” he said, cutting Harry off. Draco realized his voice had been slightly panicky, and he quickly regained control over himself. “No. Just… don’t say anything. Not until I’m done.”

After waiting several seconds, Draco relaxed. Harry had kept quiet. If he kept his eyes closed, he could almost imagine Harry wasn’t even there. That made things easier, too.

“I don’t know how to say this, either. I’ve never really said it before. But there were a few times, when I was a kid, that stuff happened to me. I mean… what I mean is, the type of stuff you don’t normally talk about. I never really talked about it… I said that already, didn’t I? But it’s true.” Draco stopped and breathed in deeply. He still felt Harry’s hand in his own, and he squeezed it. Harry squeezed back.

“There was this guy,” Draco said, and here his voice cracked. He swallowed and cleared his throat. “He was… well, I don’t know who he was. A Death Eater, I guess, one of my father’s friends… I don’t know. It almost doesn’t even matter. Anyway, he used to come over the Manor and talk to my father. And after a while my father trusted him, and I guess I must have too, and he left us alone together, I mean my father left… I was alone with this guy.”

Draco stopped and opened his eyes. He blinked rapidly, trying to stop the tears he could feel forming. God, he was such a coward today. He couldn’t even stand himself.

Draco closed his eyes and started speaking again. “So I was alone with this guy… and he started doing things.” Draco paused. “With me,” he added, even though he thought it was clear. “Touching me, kissing me, that kind of thing.” He felt Harry stiffen beside him, and Harry’s grip grew tighter around his hand. “He told me to get him off, and I did.” Draco swallowed again. Why was his throat so dry? “He asked me to do stuff to him, and told me that if I wouldn’t he’d punish me. I tried saying no a few times, but he was so much bigger than I was…” Draco paused again. He took another deep breath. “I did everything with him, you know? Everything.”

It was getting harder to breathe normally, and Draco sucked in air in great gulps. He was silent for a few seconds. What else should he say? What else needed to be said? It was hard to tell if he was doing it right or not, but he figured he should just keep on talking.

“I thought maybe it was my fault, like I’d done something. He called me pretty. Said I was too pretty for my own good.” He stopped abruptly and then continued. “I guess he got killed or something, because he stopped coming around after a while. And I guess my parents never knew, since I never told them and I can’t see how he would have.” Draco opened his eyes and blinked a couple of times. It was too late to stop the tears from forming, though, and instead they just fell down his face unhindered. “God, why am I crying?” he muttered. “What a tosser I am, eh? Anyway, even though it’s been years since it happened, sometimes I can still feel it happening, you know? Kind of like doing things brings everything back, and I just freak out.”

Draco finally looked over at Harry. Harry was looking straight ahead, so Draco had a good profile view of his face. There were tears running down his cheeks as well, and that made Draco feel much less of a prat for crying.

“So… sorry that I—”

“No,” Harry said, shaking his head. Draco’s eyes widened. Harry turned to look at Draco, and Draco could see a rage in Harry’s eyes that he had never expected to see there. It stunned him into silence. “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault, Draco, do you understand me? It’s not your fault.”

Draco sniffed and felt his lower lip tremble. Oh God, he was going to cry. Not just these silent tears, but full, loud, hysterical sobbing.

“Harry, I know. Okay? I know.” Draco’s voice was thick, and he laughed. “Now look. You’ve gone and made me cry. Asshole.” His tone was joking, light, but it did nothing to alleviate the pain on Harry’s face.

“I’m so sorry, Draco,” Harry said. He moved until their sides were pressed against each other, and then he wrapped an arm around Draco’s neck. “I am so, so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Draco sniffed and licked his lips.

“No, I… I was going to break up with you because of… I’m just sorry.” Harry’s hand began massaging Draco’s shoulder, and then Draco really did burst out crying.

“Oh God,” Draco moaned, holding his hands over his face. “Don’t look at me.”

Harry quickly turned to face Draco fully and wrapped his other arm around Draco’s waist. He held the blonde tightly, and they let their heads fall together. “Draco.”

“I’m so stupid.” Draco’s voice was mangled by the sobs that wracked his whole body.

“No. No, you’re not.” Harry’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“Yes, I am. Crying over something like this.”

Harry held him tighter. “You can cry,” he said, voice thick. “You can cry all you want.”

Draco chuckled and almost choked on his tears. “But I don’t _want_ to cry at all! I just want everything to be okay! Can’t everything just be okay?!”

Harry swallowed. “Everything _is_ okay, Draco. You’re here, you’re with me. We’re together. That’s okay, isn’t it?”

Draco nodded. He swallowed and forced the next sob back down his throat. “Yeah, that’s okay.” He gripped Harry’s shirt until his knuckles turned white. “This is okay.”

Harry held onto Draco for a long time. They both sat there, lost in their own thoughts. Draco didn’t know what exactly Harry was thinking about, but he knew it was about him. He wondered if Harry would treat him differently, now that he knew. He hoped not. He hoped they would get into plenty of other fights, and that Harry would still want to go farther with him, and that they would still be able to pick on each other whenever they wanted to. It felt right, being with Harry like that. He couldn’t imagine their relationship being any other way.

He knew that some things would change. Harry probably wouldn’t try to go farther than kissing. There would be a day or two where they were uncomfortable around each other; Draco had expected that. He was prepared for it.

What he wasn’t prepared for was the way Harry had reacted. The brunette had been so _angry_. Draco had been angry a lot because of what happened to him; there were times he couldn’t even think clearly past the rage that bubbled up inside him, threatening to spill out onto whoever was nearby. He had felt ashamed, as well, like he was so disgusting and damaged that nothing would ever be able to make it right. He hated himself. He had thought about committing suicide on several occasions, had even almost gone through with it a few times. Of course, he was too much of a coward to take his own life. Still, Draco had felt so many different things for so long that it hadn’t even occurred to him that someone else might feel it too. He had just gotten used to the idea that he was the only one in the world who would react that badly to what had happened.

“Draco?” Harry’s voice took Draco out of his own thoughts.

“Yeah, Harry?”

“Why did you tell me?”

The answer came to him immediately, and he said it without thinking. “Because I trust you.”

Harry looked at him for a moment before nodding. “I trust you, too, Draco.” He was silent for another minute. Then, he inhaled and spoke up again. “I just want you to know… if you ever want to talk…”

“I know, Harry,” Draco said, cutting him off. “And thanks. Don’t think I’m not grateful for the offer. But I’m not sure I’m really ready to talk more about it.”

“All right. That’s fine. But when you _are_ ready, I’ll be here.”

“You will?”

“Of course.”

“Oh.” Draco raised an eyebrow speculatively. “Even if it’s years from now?”

Harry gave a small smile. “Even if.”

Draco nodded. “Right then.”

They continued sitting there until classes got out, at which point several students were granted the rare opportunity to see Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy holding each other. Even after comments and questions, Harry and Draco would not move. Everyone eventually wandered off to do other things, and after a long silence both boys began to laugh. The sound was quiet at first, but gradually grew louder and louder until it echoed off the walls and down the corridors before fading away, slowly, like it had never even been there at all.

 

_Fin._


End file.
